A Break in the Chain
by Mobile Holmes
Summary: SH22 One of Lestrade's neighbours gets into a spot of trouble with our dearest Napoleon of Crime, and she hires Holmes to give her a hand. on hold! beta needed!
1. A Suspicion Arises

Lestrade sat back in her armchair with a drink, pondering. She had done a good day's work at the yard; several con men and one murderer were now behind bars awaiting trial. She heard pacing with an occasional thump coming from the walker on the floor above her. That was Jessica's room.

Lately, Lestrade had noticed that Jessica was acting odd. She was being quieter than usual, which seemed abnormal to the detective.

Lestrade had known Jess as a little girl. She felt a sort of respect for her, often helping the woman get the bags she carried from her hoverchair, or off the walker she used. Resolving to speak with Holmes about her concerns, she got into her hovercar and headed to Baker Street.

"Lestrade, how good to see you!" said Watson said, smiling as he opened the front door and invited her in.

"You too, Watson. Is Holmes in?" she asked, fiddling with her badge. Watson affirmed that the detective was, and led her up to the study.

"Inspector, this is a surprise." remarked Holmes blandly, looking up from his reading as the pair entered.

"Hi, Holmes." She said, still fingering her badge. Holmes immediately noted the hint of concern in her greeting.

"Lestrade, what is the matter?" he asked, looking mildly alarmed to see his comrade troubled. Lestrade sighed and sat down, then began to speak.

"Do you remember Jessica?" she began, trying to find a place to start. Holmes thought carefully, and recalled a young woman from Lestrade's apartments that he'd been introduced to roughly a year ago.

"Yes, I remember her. The young lady with the guitar and walker, correct? Why do you ask?"

"Well I get the feeling that someone's causing problems for her. She's been acting like someone's after her." Lestrade stated firmly.

Holmes knew from experience that the general feeling of a woman was quite reliable, and Lestrade was probably right. He steepled his fingers and sat back in his chair.

"Does she live alone?" he asked.

"Yes." Lestrade told him. She didn't quite see what it might have to do with the case, but she answered him anyway.

"Do you know of her other friends?" he asked, sinking deeper into his seat. 

"There's two that I know, one named Melissa, the other's called Sigerson."


	2. The Detectives Set Out

Author's notes: Wanna give a big thanks to Sigerson and Silvarius for the push to write. This is my first fic, so please R & R!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own SH22 in any way! That is the property of DIC Entertainment. Sherlock Holmes comes from the mind of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Only certain characters are mine!

###

A couple hours had passed since Lestrade left for 221B. In the meantime Jessica had continued to pace. She kept nervously checking at the window to see if he was still there. He was that ugly troll of a man - that one Lestrade once told her about in passing. His name was Fenwick, Moriarty's henchman! He had been watching her through a pair of binoculars. He was perching in a tree in view of a number of the building's apartments, trying to remain hidden. She couldn't understand why the 'Napoleon of Crime' was tormenting her, she suspected that it had something to do with her relationship with Lestrade. She could only hope that he would leave when Beth got home.  
  
Her apartment was the only one in the building that was modified to better fit her unique needs. The doorways were widened slightly so she could maneuver her walker through, and there was an extra power outlet used for the recharging station of her hoverchair. In the living room was a special recliner which could move whoever was seated in it into standing position at the push of a button, which was a necessity because she had trouble getting out of a chair on her own. She had a normal sofa positioned near it. The kitchen was also modified so it was bigger and easier to access. Her bathroom and bedroom were joined and built in the same manner.   
  
Jess took a deep breath and tried to relax. Tapping a few keys on her computer, she pulled up her music program and set a playlist. Some old American music by Sheryl Crow was her favorite, and she knew the words by heart. She had even gone so far as to learn a song or two on her guitar. As the music began to play, she hummed along softly and tried to forget her troubles.  
  
###  
  
Lestrade and Holmes were still back at Baker Street, Holmes pondering over who or what could be troubling the girl. The only sounds that could be heard were being made by Watson, who was in the kitchen preparing some tea. Holmes finally broke the stifling silence.  
  
"Lestrade, would your friend still be awake at this hour?" Lestrade looked up at Holmes' ancient grandfather clock. She was fairly shocked to find that it was already eleven o'clock. _Odd_, she thought,_ it wasn't that dark when I got here_.  
  
"I think so; she's usually practicing her guitar or listening to her music right about now. Why do you ask?" Before he could answer, Watson came in with a tray balancing two cups brimming with tea. She took hers and sipped it gingerly, wondering how wise it was to have caffeine so late in the evening. She really just wanted to go to bed. It had been a long day at the Yard. But her friends were far more important than sleep, anyway.  
  
Waving Watson's proffered teacup away impatiently, Holmes jumped up from his chair and collected his inverness and deerstalker from their respective hooks at the door, yelling to Watson that he was going to Lestrade's building. This was news to Lestrade, and she downed as much of her tea as possible before standing and re-holstering her ionizer.  
  
"I believe that we should go back to your building and try to assist your young friend." Lestrade sighed and rolled her eyes at him, but he chose to ignore her. "Watson, will you be joining us?"  
  
"I'm afraid not, Holmes. My battery packs are very low, and I need to uplink with the Yard soon." The technobabble seemed to bewilder Holmes, for he simply nodded sagely and descended the seventeen steps without comment. Lestrade waved and smiled at Watson before joining him.  
  
"She might not want our help, Holmes." Lestrade remarked with the air of one who suffers much. Or at least one who is ignored a great deal by her 'subordinate'. "It took me quite a while to earn her trust when she was little."  
  
"Ah, I see." he replied in a voice that made it clear that he didn't see. "Shall we, then?" Not in the mood to argue at this point, Lestrade simply shrugged and followed him out the door.


	3. The Case Comes To Light

Author's notes: I want to thank my reviewers so far, Iara, Silvarius, and Mary. Thanks to Sigerson for betaing. Disclaimer's in the second chapter. Please R & R!  
  
It didn't take long for the pair to return to Lestrade's building. Not with Lestrade's driving, anyway. As they climbed the stairs in the old building Lestrade faintly heard music from the computer's speakers.   
  
"See? I told you." She remarked to Holmes, who simply shook his head in response. She knocked on the door and called out. "Jess, it's Beth. Can I come in?" She heard a gasp and then someone jumping up and landing suddenly. Perhaps spooked' wasn't a strong enough word. They heard the sounds of the recliner being inclined and her walker being turned around, then quick footsteps. The door came open on its own, thanks to the automatic door-opener that was installed. As the door slowly opened Jessica sighed in relief.  
  
"Beth! Am I ever glad to see you!" she exclaimed, waving her visitors in, then going to the window once more to see if her _tail_ was still there. She just saw the edge of his cloak as he swept around the street corner. Holmes seated himself on the end of the couch, politely observing the girl's apparent panic.  
  
"Jessie, what's going on? Are you okay?" Beth asked her friend, her voice laced with concern. The girl turned to face her visitors, looking very frightened. She motioned for Lestrade to sit down on the couch with Holmes, then re-seated herself in the recliner.  
  
"Beth, you know that guy that you've been trying to put away? The one that escapes every time?"   
  
"You must mean Moriarty - Why do you ask?" Beth answered.   
  
"Well, I think his servant's been following me. Everywhere I've gone in the last few days or so that creep's been shadowing me. And I've gotten these scary e-mails too..." she said as she handed the Inspector a pad. Lestrade quickly ran over them before handing the little unit to Holmes, who examined them with great interest. Lestrade leveled her gaze on her friend.   
  
Jess, why weren't the police called into this in the first place? E-mail abuse is a very serious offence, and so is stalking. Holmes rolled his eyes and scoffed, earning a discrete kick in the shin from Lestrade. Before Jess could open her mouth to answer, Holmes overrode with another question.  
  
"Miss, have you had... difficulites like this before?" Holmes asked, glaring at Lestrade with watering eyes. Jessica just shook her head in response.   
  
"Not this bad." she said. Holmes finally put down the thin pad, having all of the information he needed.  
  
"Miss, how long has this gentleman been following you? Pray be precise to the details.  
  
"Three weeks. I remember because I was coming back from the market. You remember, Beth - I asked you for help with the bags as I went in."  
  
"Yeah, I remember that day. You'd really stocked up. Your hoverchair was practically falling over." Lestrade said, smiling. There was a lapse in the conversation, which Jess moved to fill.  
  
"Uh, can I get you guys anything? Something to drink, or a snack? Would you like some tea?" Both accepted politely, and Jessica got up and went into the kitchen. A few quiet seconds passed while Holmes closed his eyes to think, then they heard a violent crash from the kitchen. A very, very loud ZED IT! echoed out into the sitting room.  
  
"Jess, are you okay?" Lestrade yelped, jumping up and rushing into the kitchen.   
  
"Yeah, just had an accident." Her friend was crouched on the floor, trying to pick up the pieces of several shattered glasses and some smashed dishes from the highest shelf. Lestrade shook her head and smiled at her poor friend's nerves.  
  
"Here, let me get that, kid. Can't have you hurting yourself." She said, bending down and shooing Jess away. Jessica surrendered and rejoined Holmes in the living room. As she moved to sit down, Holmes spoke.  
  
Who was it before? he mused quietly, shooting her a speculative glance.  
  
Jess stuttered, now shaking visibly. Holmes quickly deduced that she hadn't been frightened before only on account of Lestrade's presence. He hated having people frightened of him unintentionally. It made questioning difficult. Holmes put on his most soothing, deep tone.  
  
A comment you made earlier indicated that you have had stalkers in the past. I merely wondered who.  
  
"Oh, that. Umm... you can call me Jess, no need for formality." she said, starting to relax a little. Holmes had the art calming a person down pat.  
  
"All right, Jess. Holmes said, trying her name and finding it to be satisfactory. As I asked before..." he allowed his voice to trail off. Jess took the hint.  
  
"Well, you see, as a kid I was picked on regularly. Beth was the only one who stood up for me."   
  
"I see." he said with a gentle smile, showing he meant no harm. It was then that Beth came in with the drinks.   
  
"Well, looks like you've calmed down." she said to Jess, who smiled slightly at the inspector. "So what _did_ you mean before? About the stalker-ish behavior?" Holmes gave Lestrade his most disapproving stare, aware that she had been eavesdropping. Jess was not deterred.  
  
"You know, stares, whispered comments when I'm barely in earshot, that kind of thing." The inspector nodded understandingly.


	4. The Interview's Conclusion

Author's notes: Please R & R, please no flames! Thanks to my reviewers!  
  
Over two hours had gone by since the detectives arrived at Jessica's apartment, offering their help. This surprised her a good deal, because before she hadn't known where to turn. And _Inspector _Beth Lestrade had figured out on her own that she needed help; she felt _lucky_ to have her as friend. She smiled contentedly and leaned back into her chair, causing a yawn to escape from her.  
  
Uh oh, looks like someone's getting tired!" Beth said in a singsong voice. Holmes sighed and rolled his eyes at his CO.  
  
"As if I could sleep with that guy coming around!" Jess shot back while teasingly sticking her tongue out at her friend. Holmes just chuckled softly.   
  
"Lestrade, I think we should take our leave, and allow Miss Jess to get her rest." Beth looked over at her friend and realized Holmes was right - surprise, surprise - Jessica was looking very tired. She nodded as if making up her mind and stood abruptly.   
  
"Okay Jess, I'll come by on my way to the Yard to see if Fenwick's at his perch. But I still think you should lodge a formal complaint." The girl reluctantly agreed. She was practically nodding off as she showed them out the door and thanked them for their kindness.


	5. The Truth Draws Near

Author's notes: Thanks to my reviewers, Silvarius, Iara, and Mary Christmas!  
  
The next morning Lestrade went up to Jessica's apartment early, to see if Fenwick had returned. She knocked once and Jessica opened the door immediately, pointing to her window. Beth cautiously peeked and sure enough, he was there. _Why is Moriarty doing this to her?_ she thought. What neither of them knew was that Fenwick was reporting to Moriarty directly as they spoke.  
  
"Master, zee yardie has returned to the girl's apartment. How do you wish me to handle her?" he said, over a comm-link.   
  
"Leave them alone for the moment. The proper time to strike will arrive eventually. Follow them when they leave." The professor replied coldly and calmly. Meanwhile in the apartment, Jessica nervously waited on the couch. She was practically dancing in anticipation.  
  
"Is he still there Beth?" she asked. Her friend merely nodded before bolting for the door. Jess jumped up and ran after her, but stopped at the door and went back inside to wait. She didn't have to wait long. Through the window she could see Lestrade was repeatedly kicking the oak. She gasped as a figure dropped heavily into the bushes below, shook its fist and shouted something and then ran off. Lestrade made a show of dusting herself off before coming back inside, utterly calm and composed.  
  
"Come on, let's go. We'll get some coffee on the way to the Yard, my treat." she offered, holstering her ionizer.  
  
"Okay." And on that note, the pair left the apartment. While in her cruiser, Lestrade contacted Holmes at Baker Street, informing him of Fenwick's continued presence.   
  
Holmes asked for the addresses of the girl's two other friends and Jessica freely gave him the information, though she was unsure of any connection. First on his list was Melissa. He learned from Lestrade that she was the youngest of the three friends. Apparently Jessica treated her like a little sister, which was how she treated both of her friends (much to Sigerson's chagrin, Beth had added). He decided to take Watson along for the interviews. His experience with women did span three continents, after all. Not to mention the moon.  
  
"I can't believe someone's intentionally frightening the girl, Holmes." he said quite simply, navigating a corner in the hovercoach.   
  
"Nor I." Holmes replied cryptically. Hurry Watson, we need more details and I believe they lie with these two."   
  
Their first visit was to Melissa, who was surprised and relieved that someone was finally helping her friend. They learned that Jessica was originally from the United States and had moved to New London as a toddler. Lestrade had been on her transport, and they had met then. The news seemed to surprise him very little.   
  
Sigerson was next on the list. Holmes was rather amused at her name, as he had used it as an alias long ago. He was even more amused when she filled Norwegian explorer' into the occupation field on the statement forms. Smirking, she erased it just enough so it was slightly visible and put down her true occupation instead.   
  
She was unfortunately unable to tell them any more than they already knew: her friend had been nervous of late, and had taken up the habit of continually looking over her shoulder when the three were together.   
  
###  
  
Lestrade and Jessica had arrived at the Yard a while before Holmes was even out of bed. At the moment, Beth busily typed up her statement with the information she got last night and with the new details Jess was giving now.   
  
"You overheard us last night didn't you?" she asked, changing the topic abruptly. Lestrade stopped typing and turned to face her.  
  
"What?"  
  
"When I was talking to that man who came with you last night. You heard what I told him. I was scared out of my wits, you know."   
  
"Yes, I know and yes, I heard. He felt it was necessary to find out what was troubling you despite your trouble around strangers."  
  
"Thanks, Beth." Lestrade wasn't sure what she was referring to: for taking up the case, for buying the coffee, for answering the question... She couldn't be sure. She smiled back at her now-beaming friend.  
  
"Anytime, squirt. Anytime."


	6. The Baker Street Irregulars

Lestrade and Jessica were still at the Yard, writing out reports and taunting Greyson. It was just past noon, and a nasty thunderstorm was brewing outside. London had always been famed for its' constant drizzle, but out and out thunderstorms were uncommon. Jess was starting to get jumpy, a fact which Lestrade picked up on immediately.   
  
Jess had been afraid of storms since she was a little girl. Her family had lived within the Texas stretch of Tornado Alley, and one had hit just before she moved to New London. It was still fresh in her mind as if it had only happened yesterday.  
  
Meanwhile, Fenwick was inside her apartment, going through some drawers. He had climbed in through the window, which the chit had absently left open. He was having very little success. Moriarty had ordered him to search the girl's apartment for what he wanted. Fenwick doubted the girl even knew that she had it. It was a series of legal documents, the deeds to the Lestrade estate and probably half of the furnishings in Lestrade's flat. How it came into her hands he could only guess, but he didn't care.  
  
Back at Baker Street, Holmes relayed the details of the case to his Irregulars. Like Watson, they were in disbelief. As Holmes continued to explain, Tennyson piped up with his synthesizer beeping exitedly. He probably would have had his hand raised and been bouncing in his seat if he wasn't typing on the synth.  
  
"Do you want us to look for background on Jessica and her friends?"  
  
"Yes, if you would." Holmes' tone was languid, but was underlain with a note of urgency. At this, his Irregulars saluted and marched out his door in single file. He had to admit, it was a comical sight.  
  
Tennyson went straight home to his room, locking the door behind him. He sat down at his computer, flexing his fingers like a pianist. He found Sigerson's identity, though with difficulty. She wasn't on AOL or any other sort of easy-to-trace service. When he tried to reach her files, he was astonished to find a brand-new, personalized firewall blocking his way. He decided he had two choices: contact Sigerson via IRC and/or e-mail, or spend five days on the so-so chance of getting past the firewall.   
  
He opened his e-mail application and began to type.  
  
Wiggins was in the library, quietly scanning over birth and immunization records. He had been assigned Melissa, also apparently known online as Silvarius. Her online information was easy to trace, but finding out anything about her in real life was difficult. He was stuck, at the moment. Deidre was three seats down, surrounded by a stack of fashion magazines and several stacks of record books. She saw Wiggins looking at her and turned to face him, armed with several texts.  
  
Oi've found at Jess and Mel are from the States, an' Sig is from Canadia.  
  
You sound like you already know them.  
  
Well, oi do. They jus' don' know me. Oi think Sigerson is somewhere in the southern provinces, but Oi'm still in the process o' tracin' Jessica and Silvarius. D'you think oi'd look good with short air like that? Wiggins gave a start and examined the magazine which had suddenly appeared under his nose.  
  
Um, no?  
  
Sactly. T'd be a shame to chop such lavish air. Takes ages ter grow back, y'know.  
  
  
  
Author's notes: Thanks to all who reviewed - it helps a lot.


	7. Destruction Awaits

It was getting late, and Lestrade decided to take Jessica home so she could relax. Despite the girl's continued objections and pleas, Lestrade could tell she was scared and didn't want to be alone. Beth tried her best to reassure her, with little success. They left shortly after seven, sneaking out the back exit so Greyson couldn't force anything into Lestrade's hands.  
  
Upon reaching Jessica's apartment they received a terrible shock: the place was in shambles! All of the furniture was tossed about or ripped apart. Volumes of old books were on the floor, torn and dog-eared. Jessica just broke down into tears at the sight. She felt terribly violated. Lestrade involuntarily clenched her fists, then tried comforting her.  
  
"Shhh, take it easy. It's okay, Jess."  
  
"NO! IT'S NOT!" Jessica half-shouted, half-sobbed. Lestrade was at a loss. She wasn't very good at putting people at ease. That was Holmes' job. Suddenly, a young, male voice called into the room.  
  
"Jess! Are you in there? You okay?!" Lestrade looked up to see an American man, apparently Jessica's age and height, looking around in horror at the ruined flat. Catching sight of the distraught girl in the hoverchair he ran over, suddenly fierce.  
  
"Who are you, and what happened to her?" he demanded, eyes blazing.  
  
"Inspector Lestrade, New Scotland Yard." Beth replied, just as angrily. The man's fury towards her died immediately. He looked very apologetic.  
  
"Oh! I'm sorry, officer."  
  
"That's all right. Now, who are you?" Lestrade wasn't exactly one for pleasantries.  
  
"My name's Paul Perez. I'm a friend of Jessica's. We lived in the same area of San Antonio as tots. I came for a visit on the insistence from a pair of her friends here." Jessica suddenly spoke in a trembling voice, interrupting them.  
  
"P-paul, is that really you?"  
  
"Hey, speedy." His voice was low and gentle as he knelt to make eye contact with her.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"Following the express orders of your pals, Mel and Siggy. They told me that you were in trouble, so I took the Red-eye from Texas right over here.  
  
"Damn those little-" Jessica couldn't seem to find a proper word to describe her friends for a moment. Finally she hit upon a rather nasty one, which made Lestrade and Paul exchange worried glances. Lestrade could count on one hand the amount of times Jess had cursed in her presence.  
  
"Inspector, if it's all right with you, I'd like to take Jessica back to my hotel. I think a change of scenery would be welcome to her."  
  
Fine, but you'll have to wait a few minutes. She doesn't look to be in the sort of condition to be going anywhere.  
  
Both Lestrade and Paul did their best to calm Jess, who was in a state of shock. Paul's manner seemed distant and his brow furrowed in thought, a fact which Lestrade noticed immediately.  
  
"Something wrong, Paul?" He jumped a little, shocked to discover he was so transparent.  
  
"Well, I was trying to think of how to help Jessie."  
  
I've already got someone looking into it." She said gently, seeing his distress at his friend's condition.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Ever heard of Sherlock Holmes?"  
  
Author's notes: Thanks to Silvarius (when she reads), MaryChristmas, Iara and StarDreams15! And thanks to my beta, Sigerson.


	8. The Cavalry

Lestrade was worried, an uncommon occurence. Paul was doing everything he could think of to calm Jessica, but she hadn't even cracked a smile. She was on the verge of ignoring him. There was only one option she could think of. Steeling herself for the smug comments, she called Holmes. He answered on the second ring, looking irritated. He was sitting in the back of his hovercoach, with Watson undoubtedly driving. Before he could open his mouth, she told him the news.  
  
His reaction wasn't what she had expected. She had assumed that he knew more and was purposely keeping her in the dark. She hoped the new development would help him to find the solution, not cloud the problem even more. He asked Watson to change directions and come straight to the flat, then contacted his Irregulars with another for the list: Paul Perez III.  
  
When he arrived, Holmes was surprised at the condition of both the flat and its' owner. Before he even came into the living room, he knew that the criminal had come in looking for something. Nothing was left as it had been the last time he was in the room.  
  
While Watson helped Lestrade check for prints and DNA traces, Holmes tried to see to Jess. Paul noticed the man coming towards them. and took a protective stance in front of his friend. Holmes, ever the sensitive one, rolled his eyes.  
  
My name is Sherlock Holmes. You are standing in front of my client. He told the man, his voice quiet but firm. Paul jumped out of his way as if he'd been burned.  
  
I'm sorry, Mister. It's just... finding Jessie like this... He trailed off, twiddling his thumbs and looking uncertain.  
  
It's quite alright, dear boy.  
  
M-mister Holmes, is that you? Jess had found her voice. It's okay, Paul. Beth asked him to help me, to find out who's doing this to me and why. Holmes smiled as knelt down to be at eye level with her.  
  
Are you all right?  
  
I don't know, she said, cryptically.  
  
You wouldn't be the same Sherlock Holmes that I've heard Jess mention, would you? Paul had suddenly felt the need to ask.  
  
One and the same, the detective replied, just as several members of the Yard arrived on the scene to investigate. Jess, feeling boxed in, hugged her knees and started rocking. Awkward in a hoverchair, but still possible. Lestrade looked at her, then exchanged a glance with Holmes.  
  
Right. Time to leave, I think. Paul nodded. With infinite care, he guided his friend out into the hall to wait. Watson, Lestrade and Holmes remained a few moments to fill out forms and investigate further.  
  
They hadn't been there long when they heard their names called from the stairwell.  
  
Jess! Paul! Are you guys okay? Two teens ran towards them. The one was a bit taller than Jess, but with identical brown hair and eyes. The other was taller than everybody, with dark hair and hazel eyes. Melissa and Sigerson to the rescue, apparently.  
  
What are YOU doing here? Jessica demanded coldly.  
  
We came over to see if Paul was here yet, Sigerson explained flippantly, pretending to be oblivious to the rage coming off her friend in waves. Melissa nudged Siggy in the ribs and nodded towards the flat, indicating that she should shut up.  
  
What the destruction? Jess, what's going on? Melissa asked, while Sigerson made a study of the doorway that Holmes had appeared in. He had probably heard new voices and wondered what was happening.  
  
Why should I tell the two of you? So you can go behind my back and-  
  
Aww, c'mon Jess! I'll bet they were just worried about you. Mel and Siggy sent Paul the best One of us is going to buy you a drink, really soon. looks they could muster.  
  
AN: Big thanks to my reviewers! KEEP EM COMING, GUYS! And a Major Heap of thanks goes to my pal Paul Perez III for being supportive of my writing!


	9. Family Gathering

Family Gathering

Two sets of wet shoes were steadily making their way upstairs. They were ignored by the girls, who assumed that it was probably more Yarders. Paul was the only one who spared a glance when they turned the corner into the hall. He was the only one to do a double-take and froze. They were a man and woman he had seen a lot of lately. Their clothes were damp from the storm that was still raging outside.

"Paul, are you okay? You seem nervous" Melissa said, noting Paul's inability to move after ten seconds.

"Well I think I'm going to be in trouble." He murmured. Sigerson's head rose and swiveled to them, but Melissa was faster.

"Do you know who they are?"

"Yeah, her parents" he answered, suddenly finding a piece of carpet in need of study.

"Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?" Jessica's voice, barely controlled, rang through the air.

"Jessica are you alright?" The man looked down at her, an expression of concern painted on his face.

"You guys sure got here fast." Paul observed, before Jessica could answer. Very slowly and deliberately turned upon him, realizing that he had brought her parents into New London.

"YOU!" she spat, reaching for him in anger. Melissa and Sigerson each grabbed a side of her hoverchair, determined not to let Paul be overrun. Jessica struggled against their efforts, but calmed when her mother stepped forward.

"Jessica, calm down," she began in soothing tones, Paul just told us that he was coming to see you. We were worried since we hadn't heard from either of you in at least a week, and nobody answered when we called."

"I've been out at the yard with Beth since early this morning. She wanted me to file a report on what's been going on." She said quietly. It was then that Holmes and Lestrade chose to make an appearance.

"Mr. and Mrs. Welch! What are you doing here?" Lestrade asked immediately, brusque as always. Holmes bit down on his lip to avoid smirking, but wasn't very successful.

"Nice seeing you too, Beth." Mr. Welch retorted, earning a swat on the arm from his wife. Jessica's attention was drawn towards Holmes, however.

"Did you find anything?"

"Some clues," he lied, "but rest assured I'm not going to let this go unsolved." The second portion was truthful. There are some cases which are too singular to miss.

"And just who are you?" Mr. Welch demanded, much the same as Paul had.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes. I've been enlisted by your daughter to solve her case." He said, voice firm and calm as ever. The man looked at his daughter as if seeking confirmation.

"Beth asked him." And with that, she folded her arms toward her stomach.

AN: thanks to my loyal reviewers. Sorry if it took me a little longer to update!


	10. The Secret Revealed

Jessica, why didn't you tell us that you were in trouble? Her mother by her side, Jessica was now relatively calm. She was still upset, but she was coherent again.

she said solemnly, you know I don't like asking for help. Mrs. Welch couldn't stop an exasperated sigh, but Jessica was unfazed. And before you ask, Dad - Beth figured it out. I didn't say anything before yesterday. Mr. Welch closed his mouth with a click, deciding that his daughter didn't need an argument at the moment. Both Holmes and Lestrade stood quietly on the sidelines, occasionally bouncing ideas off each other.

Paul was also witnessing all of this, but his mind was otherwise occupied. He was wondering why one of his best friends since childhood hadn't contacted him before now. He had always had a bit of a puppyish crush on her, but he didn't recall saying anything that would make her detach from him completely. He wasn't even sure if she felt the same for him as he did for her. After watching as Paul stared at the same spot on the wall for nearly four minutes, Holmes took it upon himself to wake the young man.

Is there something wrong, Paul? Have you found something? Paul looked almost frightened, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. He would never admit it, but Holmes loved having that affect on people.

I said, is something the matter? You appear preoccupied.Well, it's just that I was trying to figure out why someone would go after Jessica like this. She hasn't done anything to deserve this, you know. She's one of the sweetest people I've ever known. His tone was level and steely, but the whiteness of his knuckles betrayed him. Holmes had to bite on his cheek to keep from laughing, so he simply nodded and looked over at his client.

The girl was still trembling with fright. He was sympathetic towards her and her current plight. He had seen it many times in prior cases. The other Yardies had finished their investigation and found one item unaccounted for. An item that had been in a compartment in the wall of Jessica's bedroom.

Excuse me, miss? One of the constables, a burly Scot with a contrastingly gentle voice approached Jessica and her parents.

Do you know what was kept in the compartment in the bedroom?W-what compartment? I don't know what you're talking about, she answered in shock.

There's evidence that a secret compartment was built within your bedroom wall. Lestrade said, dismissing the poor constable with a curt wave. Upon hearing this, Mr. Welch's face fell in shock. He finally started to understand the extent of the trouble and danger his only child was in. Before he could recover from his surprise, Jess was pinning him with her best You-Want-To-Tell-Me-Everything-Right-Now-Or-I'll-Go-Nuclear look.

Dad, do you know what they're talking about? Her father just let out a long sigh with his wife looking on in dread. She also had realized what was happening.

Well baby, when we first helped you move in, I found the hidden wall-space and put a locket inside. A family heirloom, you see.What was so different about it? Holmes asked as aridly as if he were chatting about the weather, a pastime he never indulged in.

Back in the early part of the 21st century, a very powerful and advanced computer chip was developed. It was part of a weapon. The one responsible for the creation of the chip was my daughter's namesake, Jessica Marie Welch I. Like my daughter, she was born with multiple physical disabilities. But she was extremely bright.

She had gained employment with a company located in the States that made microchips and other computer-related components. It was completely by accident, she was just making a common chip. Anyway, she figured it would be used for all the wrong reasons. She decided to hide the chip in something that she could keep close by. She received a locket for her 25th birthday and hid the chip in that. Your grandma gave me the locket when you were little.Didn't you trust me? I would've kept the locket and the chip safe! Jess was shouting, practically spitting. Paul and her other two friends came up behind her quietly, prepared to hold her back in the event that she went after her father as she had done earlier.

Take it easy, Jessie. I'll bet your dad has his reasons for not telling you. Paul began, gently.

How would you know? Her father no longer the object of her fury, Jess wheeled around to face Paul.

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the reviews! SO SORRY this was late! Meant to put it out by X-mas! Oh well, you know what to do. Hit the review button!


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